Devan
by Darkford
Summary: I'm back! This is an entire backstory dedicated to the characters seen in a dropped story called 'Time Travel'. Fear not! It will make sense and take things slowly! (Unfortunately, there will also be fewer explosions.) {Edit: Dropped due to lack of planning and quite simply forgetting what I was actually doing here.}
1. Chapter 1

Her life began in a hut.

Her first memory was not of a mother's touch or the gentle purring she would soon know to be her mother's; instead, her first memory was of the gentle warmth she felt as she heard the rain hit the roof in a steady pitter-patter that went on endlessly. Her mother licked her neck, and she mewed affectionately, nuzzling her back.

This was her first memory; of warmth in the pouring rain.

* * *

At this point, she did not have a name; but she had a purpose she was happy to fulfill for her human masters. All she had to do was tell them when other humans came along, calling loudly for them. She saw many people in her time, some who tried to hide and some who made it very obvious that they were there, but either way, she loved her mountain home where she could work alongside her sisters and brothers as what her master called a 'guard dog'.

However, though her early life had been filled with unmatched joy, she soon found that fate had a habit of picking her for the hard jobs.

The first thing fate threw at her was the death of her very own mother. The Tibetan Spaniel had been young when she had delivered her; that did not stop her from reaching an old age. One day, she sniffed the air with a little nervous twitch and tried to warn her siblings of what she smelled. She'd only caught whiff of it a few times before on distant winds, but this smell was strong, and it was nearby. With warning, her siblings began to raise the alarm to wake their master and get him out there.

Oh, if only she could predict death. It would have been easy to catch her mother and speak to her in whimpering, pitying tones, at least a little, before her mother lay dead before her, body stiff as stone and eyes faded as a poor human's fabric. She heard clearly the upset sounds her master made as he lifted her motionless mother off the ground, away and to a small hole that was made quickly for her. He placed her in there, held his hands together, and then buried her under the dirt, a stone placed there later the only recognition that she had ever been there.

Her brothers and sisters were confused and unsure, but memory of their mother soon left their minds as they stayed ever devoted to their duties. She, however, remembered a time of rain, a pitter-patter on the roof and the warmth of fur against hers as a tongue trailed over her spine. Every day she made an effort to stand before the grave. She could not 'pray', but she could remember.

Perhaps that was the way she first knew.

 _I am different._


	2. Chapter 2

The Master's son did not trust her.

It was strange at first - the deep pain from losing her mother blinded her from the outside world, and humans had a horrible habit of communicating mainly by vision and movement instead of the keener senses. It was only a week later she noticed the curious glances she was getting from the five-year-old, and it was only then that her family began to drop like flies around her.

The sole boy that had been in her litter was first. One day, he simply stopped, his eyes never opening one night. There was a mourning just like her mother's, and then he was dropped into another hole, and there was another stone. She had another family member to mourn over.

Then it was the eldest, a girl of powerful disposition, who very suddenly dropped before a human one day. The others did not question it, but she saw the baton in his hands. She feared the baton with all her might, pledging never to touch one, or even get close.

It struck her harder then; there was a battle raging within her as she longed to snuggle up to her brother and sister. When she requested to sleep with the others more often, however, they didn't understand; her begging barks made no sense to them.

Perhaps that was the second sign she found. They had no idea what sounds meant, beyond tone and volume. Her heart sank. Could they not see how the humans used sound to communicate to them directly?

She became a recluse. Only barking when necessary, never eager to eat, constantly staring down the fuzzy symbols the humans had carved on the stones. She tasted regret, anger, frustration. When would her mother and brother and sister come back?

Then it occurred to her that they wouldn't. This was the dreaded 'dead' she had heard of; the timelessness of a dog's life was lost to her.

Someday, she would stop moving entirely, and then she would spend eternity in the ground.

She hoped she would get to rest beside her mother again one day.

Perhaps this was what led to the master's son confirming his suspicions; her understanding of death pulled her out of the land of blissful ignorance her siblings remained in, while she was brought into an endless limbo of understanding without anyone knowing she did.

Little did she think someone would figure it out.

* * *

It was a fateful day. Four more of her siblings had fallen to the ground by the time it happened, and the rest were old and tired. She, however, still felt whole and hale, and she was surprised that no-one questioned it until that day.

Her feet beat a rhythm into the floor that she followed with confidence as she approached the kitchen, hoping the staff would spare her some of the edibles found there. She knew very well that the best edibles were in the kitchen.

When she got there, there were no humans. With a huff of disappointment she turned around and walked towards the master's room. He would get something for her; he always did.

She rounded a corner and her eyes locked with that of a boy in somewhat clean rags. With a sad tone, he said, "You know he's dead, don't you?"

She didn't understand what the sounds meant specifically at the time, but she knew very well what the tone meant.

Her master was dead.

It was her, crying out sadly at his feet, hoping that he could hear her at least a little as she sat next to him with a mournful expression, that the master's son stared hard at her.

She never thought that her love for her master would make her leave the house.

* * *

The drifting conversations she heard were grim to hear. Her heart hang heavy with a memory of her siblings; there were now twelve graves. That was one mother and eleven siblings, and she the only one left.

There were new dogs, of course, to take care of the new master, the master's son. However, her mind was plagued with worry as she was brought inside and shown to a small man with a face that reminded her ever so much of one of the other humans that frequented the place, always waving at her master and trying to force upon him many small items she did not know the purpose of. He would often take a few to humour the man; she thought this made him kind and sweet.

There was a strange exchange between the two, and then her lead, which was attached to her leather collar, was handed to the mystery man. What was happening? Where was she going?

She was led away. She knew better than to protest or try to go back, but her head swiveled restlessly to the set of graves that housed her mother and siblings.

It would haunt her forever what she saw, and she would occasionally wish that she didn't look back, merely occupied her curious soul with the mystery man who was leading her away. Just within her vision was a man, tall and young, with a large stick in his hand, upon which was attached a metal.

Her heart fell out of her chest the very moment the stick struck through all twelve graves, eliminating her family forever.

She turned back to the mystery man and begged herself not to look again. She was so glad she didn't.

She feared that she would recognize the face of the human who did it, even though hoping did no good. She already knew.

She learned hatred that day, hatred towards the stick-weapon... but even more hatred towards the Master's son.


End file.
